


Three Years

by MannaTea



Category: When Calls the Heart (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MannaTea/pseuds/MannaTea
Summary: AJ returns to Hope Valley.
Relationships: Bill Avery/AJ Foster
Comments: 12
Kudos: 5





	Three Years

**Author's Note:**

> The last time we saw AJ was at the end of S5 when she was taken to Cape Fullerton to stand trial for her crimes. Her continued absence (as of the end of S7) could imply that she has been busy serving a prison sentence, and that is the idea this story runs with. It takes place around the end of S7/beginning of a potential S8; AJ is pretty much fresh out of prison in this story, so if she seems a little rattled... Well, you can google treatment of women in early 1900s prisons, but I don't recommend it. 
> 
> An advanced warning: this story could get a little dark.

AJ tried to picture the kind of face Bill might make when he saw her. There would be some measure of surprise, no doubt. Exasperation? Probably. Annoyance? Perhaps.

Or maybe he wouldn’t even remember her. The last three years had no doubt flown by for him, busy with his job and whatever else he did to pass the time. Comparatively, she was nothing more than a speck at the back of his mind, a few days of his life out of thousands, a memory barely worth consideration.

The last of her money got her to Union City on the train. Three years ago the passenger trains would go no further than Lethbridge, but in Cape Fullerton there had been an updated map on the train station wall. She’d stared at all the new stops on the line as if doing so would fill in all the gaps of knowledge she was suddenly aware of. Naturally, the world had continued on without her. Her feet were grateful for the change, but the rest of her just felt lost.

She supposed she could smile a little, maybe bat her eyelashes; someone would eventually take pity on her and offer a ride heading in the right direction. The thought made her feel uneasy, so she checked her hat for the millionth time and hurried off the platform.

Nobody stopped her. With an oversized coat and her hair tucked up inside a plain hat, she probably passed as a man…at a glance, anyway. The key was to not let anyone get a better—or longer—look.

But there was only so much that could be done about that on a crowded train. Days of travel had given everyone around her too many opportunities.

Even though the main road leading out of town was busy, she avoided it. A few men that shared her car had given her odd looks, the kind that made her want to flinch. It was like they knew just by looking at her that she’d be an easy target. She didn’t _want_ to be, but she was obviously traveling alone… It wouldn’t be difficult for them to catch up to her on the road, and nobody would think twice about them approaching her to talk. To an outside observer, it would look like a man approaching another man. To get anyone’s attention she’d have to scream, but the thought of drawing that kind of attention to herself made her stomach churn. Nobody in Union City knew her or could vouch for her. Would anyone even care? Besides, she knew from experience that a few of the right words in the right tone from a man would make _her_ look like the unreasonable one.

And there was prison to consider. The moment anyone knew that she’d been locked away, let alone for _lying_ … Her hands tingled with something like fear.

She missed her gun. Maybe she still didn’t have it in her to shoot someone, but at least it would provide her the illusion of having options.

The evening blew in colder and with the trail dark, AJ was forced to stop for the night. No fire. Someone might see, and it would probably blow out in the wind, anyway. She huddled up against a tree and tried to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. She hadn’t gotten much rest on the train, either. Too busy thinking, but it wasn’t as if she could force her brain to stay quiet.

So she tried to focus and her thoughts settled on Bill. Again.

What would he think when she showed her face in Hope Valley for the third time. Third time’s the charm, right? It was just a saying, not a comforting thought. She only wished it were real. Maybe she could say that to him and he would find it charming. No…maybe not.

He would be surprised to see her. Last time he’d been surprised, too. And amused. She thought she remembered a little confusion in his eyes. The annoyance and exasperation hadn’t come until later, after she’d seen the better things.

She didn’t know what she would do if he showed the exasperation and annoyance at her right away, this time. Was it too much to ask to crumble into bits and blow away on the wind?

He’d still helped her, though…despite the negative feelings.

It was confusing. _He_ was confusing.

Going to Hope Valley was stupid. She’d thought about it deeply—had had three _years_ to consider it, as a matter of fact—and it still felt like an impulsive decision. The days in prison had dragged on forever. Less time than Gowen? Sure, for the equivalent crime—for perjury. But there were the rest of her crimes to consider, and the judge had certainly done that.

Three years. It could have been worse. The maximum time for all the laws she’d broken was closer to ten years. Maybe more. She wasn’t sure how she’d made it through three in that place. More would have killed her.

She’d done a lot of daydreaming to get through it. Hours and hours of living in her head just for the sake of having somewhere to go and something to think about that wasn’t her tiny little cell.

It was stupid to think about Bill Avery, but it was _easy_. He’d left an impression. She’d let him do that. Infuriating man.

He hadn’t visited even once, though of course she hadn’t expected him to. She’d excused it for a while: he was recovering from that snakebite. Something like that was bound to take a lot out of a man! But the weeks turned into months and the excuse stopped making sense.

He just wasn’t interested. He was the sheriff and she was the fugitive, she remembered him saying. Obviously there wasn’t any interest there.

She couldn’t blame him. What kind of decent man _would_ be?

AJ struggled to her feet, her position huddled up against the tree feeling too much like the corner of her prison cell in the dark. She wasn’t trapped anymore. It was better to walk, even if her feet were already feeling raw. It seemed wrong to not move while she could.

She hadn’t lied to Bill when she’d said she wasn’t used to being cooped up. She’d never much cared for locked doors and authority figures outside them. Adulthood had freed her of one of those situations, but prison threw her right back into it. It had been nothing but an endless loop of fear and feeling trapped, and of an embarrassing helplessness. Hope Valley’s little jail cell had nothing on it. Bill’s cold shoulder was frustrating, but at least he was safe. At least she could trust him. He wouldn’t hurt her.

Not physically, anyway.

She stumbled through the darkness, keeping both hands jammed into her pockets. She’d had enough money for two things, and she’d picked train ticket and a big meal to get her through the ride. Maybe she should have chosen gloves instead of the meal. She didn’t really feel hungry anymore, but the cold was making her joints ache…

Best think warm thoughts. The time she’d kissed him and he’d kissed her back. It hadn’t been long, but she remembered the intensity of it leaving her breathless. She hadn’t expected that from him, though maybe she should have.

And then there was the time he’d kissed her. Sort of. She’d helped a little. She’d daydreamed about that kiss over and over again—usually in an attempt to puzzle it out, to understand it, but sometimes because she needed to remember something quiet and soft and _gentle_.

Despite her musings, she couldn’t make sense of it. Was he interested or not?

It took him almost dying to even admit that he’d done something as small as reach out to the prosecutor of her case. How much did he dislike her that he hadn’t wanted to admit he’d helped her? He’d reacted with anger when she’d brought up the first kiss. Anger and denial. Was he ashamed of it? It had to be. He was ashamed he’d enjoyed it. With her. Because she was a criminal?

But he’d still helped her, even after that. It must have been pity. Was that the reason for the kiss, too? It seemed an unlikely thing for him to do, to feel sorry for her to that extent, but she didn’t really know him. She’d hesitated before getting out of the wagon and maybe he’d taken it the wrong way. Maybe he wanted to let her think she got her way before she was carted off to prison with nothing to look forward to on the other side…if she even made it that far.

There, have your kiss.

The thought made her feel sick to her stomach. God, she was stupid. She should have kept her money and tried to find work in the city. A room to rent. She didn’t need much to eat.

But it was too late. She’d bought the ticket and she’d taken the train. Even now, she was walking toward Hope Valley like it was some kind of a beacon, her very own Northern Star.

Wasn’t it just as likely that he’d wanted the kiss just for the physical pleasure of it? She hadn’t imagined that feeling the first time. Or the pull the second time. There was _something_ between them; a spark. Maybe it was just physical for him. He was a good-looking man, and she wasn’t too bad to look at, either. Or at least, she hadn’t been back then. That would explain the lack of visits. He’d given in to desire once and then she’d been out of sight and therefore also out of mind.

If he was still ashamed of having ever felt attracted to her, he would be annoyed by her sudden appearance in Hope Valley. If that was the case…

She really did want to start over somewhere nice. She wouldn’t ask for too much. She could pretend nothing had ever happened between them. She could keep a secret.

She felt delirious, thoughts spiraling and bouncing back and forth. It was frustrating to not feel in control of the directions of her own thoughts. She’d always struggled with it, but the time in prison had made it worse.

Three years. What if he _had_ been interested when he’d kissed her but it disappeared when he found out how long her sentence was? The thought gave her mixed feelings, but at least it meant he’d liked the idea of her for a little while. Anything could happen in three years, though. A year was a new courtship. Two years was a new marriage. Three could be anything.

Nobody sensible would wait that long.

Maybe that was for the best. Three years in prison had permeated every layer of her; it left the kind of mark she couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t pretend it hadn’t affected her. The physical walls were gone, but sometimes it still felt like they were closing in on her.

It was foolish to go to Hope Valley, to treat a regular little town like it was some kind of miracle cure. It wouldn’t fix her. It might make things worse.

Why was she doing this to herself? Dangling things she couldn’t have in front of her. Secrets she didn’t want to keep. She hoped he wouldn’t be mad at her for coming unannounced.

There were so many thoughts taking up space in her head she felt like crying, but it was too cold for that. Her knees ached and her cheeks felt chapped. Should have spent that food money on a scarf or new socks. Warmer pants. This was a bad idea. Just showing up… she’d be lucky if he didn’t pretend not to know her.

She fully expected him to, if he’d married in the last few years. She’d prefer that to being invited in. To be seen so transparently, to be _known_ by someone she had never met before: she couldn’t take it.

A bad idea. Terrible idea.

But eking out a living in the city was terrifying, too, in its own way. She could rent a room but anything she could afford wouldn’t be safe. If she was unlucky she wouldn’t find work, at least not the kind she could make herself do. Homelessness was a real possibility, and she would always have to fear being found by the hungry eyes that patrolled the prison walls. They lived there somewhere. They could even end up being a neighbor. The thought made her mouth go dry.

Hope Valley was the better choice, even if Bill couldn’t stand to look at her. There was the mayor and Dottie. They would help if he wouldn’t, even if it was just a meal. They seemed like the sort to do that.

A meal sounded good. Hope Valley’s jail soup was the last good meal she’d had. She imagined it would taste downright heavenly now. If she got some, she’d have to be careful not to eat too much of it. She’d make herself sick.

The cold air made her lungs hurt, but she couldn’t stop walking until the need to rest finally overpowered the urge to flee. She sank to the ground by a large rock and curled in on herself there, chin tucked into her coat, body rocking slowly until everything hurt less again and daybreak started to peek out from the sleeping sky to the east.

It was time to move again, time to go. She wouldn’t make it to Hope Valley today. Probably. It was too far. She walked slow, hands jammed into her pockets to protect them, feet feeling numb. One foot in front of the other. And again. And again. One more time. Maybe it was better not to think. If she thought too much, she might talk herself out of Hope Valley. She didn’t feel like she could go much further than that, not without some of the mayor’s delicious soup. It would be warm and rich and it would fill in all the cracks of her until her whole body was heavy with contentment and—

* * *

She woke to a light drizzle and didn’t remember having fallen asleep. Strange. Or was it? Time had been hard to keep track of for so long she might have just done it without thinking about it, without consciously processing the idea. That was silly of her. Now it would take even longer to get to where she was going.

Getting up felt like crawling through a mire, but it was easy to blame the sluggishness on her body. It had been sitting idle in prison for far too long, and was now thoroughly chilled besides.

Maybe the impromptu nap was a blessing in disguise. She could never seem to sleep when she wanted to, and now she wouldn’t have to stop for the night. She could just keep going. The drizzle lightened and broke, but the sky remained overcast. She tried to picture Bill again, and his response to seeing her, but the image was blank. What was she hoping for?

What did she _want_ to see?

It took the better part of the night to steer her mind in the right direction. To what would be good, but also reasonable. She had to temper her expectations and formulate a plan. Nothing too nice, or she would be disappointed to look for it and not find it.

Recognition would feel good if it came alone.

And kindness. Just a bit. It wouldn’t have to be much.

The thought was comforting. She’d bust into the jail like she owned the place and he’d be sitting at his desk. He’d look up, surprised. Then the recognition. The kindness would come a little later, after he heard her voice.

Then she would know it didn’t annoy him. Not entirely, even if the rest of her did. He could ask if she wanted to sit down, or he could offer to stoke up the fire a bit…

It was a fair daydream, and it kept her company until she saw the Hope Valley water tower. The sight made her blink, mind fuzzily detaching itself from her happier thoughts. Already? Wasn’t it further away? Or had she walked longer than she’d thought?

She suddenly felt sick with nerves. The hour seemed late…or was it early? Maybe she should wait until daylight? Or she could sneak into the jail like before. There was a stove in there. She could light a fire, enjoy it for a little bit—

Or maybe he’d hold it against her. Breaking and entering?

She would…wait. Outside. Until morning. That seemed to be the smart thing to do. Just wait. Wait and think of a plan—for real this time.

The town was quiet and the road a little slick. Despite her best efforts she slipped once and was lucky enough to catch herself on a hitching post. The jailhouse steps were easier to traverse thanks to the railing, and after she reached the top she took her hand out of her pocket just long enough to try the door. It was locked, of course. It was for the best; she wasn’t sure she possessed the courage to go inside, anyway.

After a moment, she shuffled over to the bench. It was probably icy but the slight relief that rushed up her frame when she sat down made it hard to care. She resolved to stand again in a minute, but hardly a minute passed and the door beside her opened. The old AJ wouldn’t have blinked. The new one jumped, and then felt panic rush up her spine when she didn’t recognize the person standing there.

He was young-ish and wearing suspenders, his hair tousled. He looked worried.

"Hello?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”

She knew that she ought to form her words carefully, but it was hard to think, and instead she blurted out the first thing to come to mind: “You’re not Bill.”

He tilted his head. “No. I’m Constable Nathan Grant. Can I help you with something?”

 _Constable._ Her stomach turned over and she was glad she’d only tried the door. If she’d broken in, Bill would be the least of her worries. This man could pack her right back off to prison in a heartbeat.

“Uh,” she managed lamely, unsure what to say. She was here for, “Bill?” A small part of her knew it didn’t quite make sense.

“He’s at home,” the constable said, a sharp edge to his voice. “It’s late. Is he expecting you?”

She didn’t want to lie, but she nodded, the movement jerky. It was hard to talk. She wanted to ask where his home was, but all she could manage was a pathetic little, “Where?” Her whole body ached with the need to get away from this place and go anywhere else. She should have just waited outside of Abigail’s Café. She doubted the mountie would be there.

“It’s the grey one down there.” He pointed down the main street and crooked his finger off to the side. “Third one down.”

At least he was here. Maybe he had retired.

It made sense.

She nodded again and stood. It was more difficult than she’d anticipated.

Constable Grant offered her an awkward smile; it was almost as if he wanted to reassure her, but she couldn’t trust it. “He might be asleep,” he said. “Don’t disturb the peace or I might have to arrest you.” He smiled again as if to mark the statement as a joke, but his words overrode it.

Her stomach plummeted to her feet. “I won’t,” she managed, her voice almost breathless with fear as she all but stumbled down the steps to the street.

She followed the mountie’s instructions, too afraid to look behind her to see if she was being watched. Of course she was. Down the main street, around the corner, third one… Third. Third. She had to keep repeating it because she felt like her thoughts were slipping.

There. She couldn’t tell what color it was in the dark, but there was a bit of light coming through one of the windows. Maybe the fireplace, dying down for the night.

He was probably asleep.

But just in case, she could knock…quietly. It wouldn’t disturb anyone. It would be more suspicious not to, now. She’d rather die frozen on the doorstep than go back to prison again. Even the Hope Valley jail cell might very well kill her. _Quietly_ , she reminded herself.

She lifted her shaking hand and rapped her knuckles against the door three times, very softly. There. She resolved to wait a few minutes and then leave. She could go to the café and hide out of sight behind it. Maybe next to the woodpile. It would probably be safe there for a few hours. Relatively safe. If it wasn’t somehow a criminal offense. She didn’t think it was, but she’d lost three years. Maybe she didn’t know anything.

The sound of the door unlatching made her lightheaded, though she wasn’t sure why. This was the moment she’d been waiting for and she needed to pay attention. If only her eyes would focus… She wasn’t spineless. She could take a little rejection, a little coldness. If that was what came with the truth, then there was nothing she could do about it. And she could keep a secret if she had to.

She lifted her eyes.

“Don’t you know it’s the middle of the night?” a voice asked almost before the door was open. It was Bill, all right. She’d know him anywhere. He sounded more than a little annoyed.

Her stomach couldn’t sink any lower. A part of her had expected it, but it felt even worse than she’d imagined. She had to blink back the heaviness. Tears, probably. She couldn’t let that happen. But her vision blurred anyway and she hated it. And maybe herself, too, just a little. It made it hard to focus on the shape of him.

“What?” The tone changed into confusion, and then suspicion, as if he’d expected to find someone else on the other side. “Who—?”

He didn’t know her.

She couldn’t make herself speak. She just wanted to see his face, but she couldn’t make it out. He was just a silhouette in the dark, backlit by his hearth.

The old AJ might have said something fun or flirty—maybe even suggestive. She would have at least said hello and offered him a cautious smile. But the new AJ was different. Her thoughts stilled under the sudden heaviness as it traveled from her eyes to encircle her head. It made her vision dim and she wanted to reach out to steady herself but her hands felt trapped in her pockets.

“Bill,” she managed to say, struggling to speak through the fog in her head, “it’s—”

She meant to give her name, in case he’d forgotten it, but her body refused to cooperate, muscles slackening so suddenly she couldn’t finish her thought. When she tried to blink the fog away, it only closed in. Her knees buckled. For a moment she felt as if she were falling…and then there was nothing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> When I originally posted this story, it was called "Two Years" and took place after Season 6. I promised an update if AJ did not return in S7, and she didn't, so the title has been changed to "Three Years" and the story itself has been edited to reflect the change. I also edited quite a bit of the chapter to make it more cohesive (last edit on 9/28/20), so if you read it before a while ago, I suggest giving it a re-read before moving onto the second chapter (which is in the works)!
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please comment if you have the time!


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